Dr Jazz
by 3010364
Summary: Ember X Jazz Friend-ship Ember got caught in the Fenton Thermos again, but she's not headed back to the Ghost Zone. No, she's headed for therapy at the hands of (a pretty-much competent) Dr. Jasmine Fenton.


Ember felt the familiar whirl of being released from the Fenton Thermos, but something was strange about this particular time. She looked around. This wasn't the Ghost Zone, unless it had been renovated into a beige room with hardwood floors and cushiony furniture. Plants in each corner, a window letting in the evening sun, a piano tucked away to the side, a desk with a computer and papers strewn across the surface; it was hell or therapy.

"Hi there, why don't you take a seat?" called out a female voice from behind a clipboard.

The clipboard fell down to her lap, revealing her auburn hair held back by a hairband as bright as her teal eyes. Her immaculately painted lips turned into a reassuring smile as she leaned out from her chair and held out a hand and introduced herself, "I'm Dr. Jasmine Fenton, psychiatrist specialized in ghost related behaviors, but please, call me Jazz."

Look at that pretentious face. Call me Jazz? Who did this human think she was? "Do you know who I am? I'm Ember McLain!"

She raised her arms, poised to play her guitar. Flaring her ponytail, Ember called out, "Tell me who you looove!"

She swung her arm and… nothing. No distorted chord, or even a guitar. Heck, even her hair was barely fizzling.

Jazz raised an eyebrow and showed a piece of purple guitar from her white doctor's coat. "I'm afraid your guitar's getting repaired," she said apologetically.

Ember's eyes sparked a bright green in indignation. "You… you… you dipstick!" she stammered out.

Jazz put the piece back in her pocket, ignoring the strange choice on insult. "Don't worry, I already told you it's getting fixed, but you may as well kill some time with me." She gestured at the futon across from her. "Please, take a seat."

Ember weighed her choices: she could either throw a tantrum, or she could save what dignity she had, play along, and hope this dipstick would give back her guitar. She opted for the latter, taking a seat and resorting to giving the doctor as dirty a look as she could muster.

"So what do you want?" Ember fumed.

Jazz smiled. "I just want to talk a bit. You've been quite busy lately. This is your sixth attack this month."

Ember snorted. "Yeah, what's it to you?"

"I think it's something to talk about. Being that… uh… active doesn't come just on a whim."

Ember rolled her eyes, trying to think of a witty retort, until a revelation dawned on her. "Hey, I remember you! You were that backup singer that ruined my debut performance of 'Girl's Night Out'!"

Jazz's eyes shot wide open in embarrassment until her instinct for composure kicked in. "You have a pretty good memory! I'm flattered you remembered me. Which makes a pretty good segue for what I'd like to talk about. Do you want to talk about what's been going on in your life, or do you want me to start?"

Ember thought through her reactions. She flared her eyes and snorted, so an eye roll was the obvious next in line. Her eyes went in a perfect circle and she waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing's been going on, so how about you start doing whatever and I'll pretend to care."

Jazz's smile didn't disappear, but a slight tightening of her lips betrayed her annoyance. "Well then, I guess I'll get started." Jazz turned a page on her clipboard. "Your song 'Remember' has some great lyrics."

"Thanks, I guess even idiots can recognize good music."

Reading from her clipboard, Jazz recited "'You should not doubt me' 'You will remember my name' 'Nothing but ashes remain'."

Ember shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was irritating having someone make your genius sound hackneyed.

"My guess is that this song has something to do with a lonely teenagehood, a boy, and a tragic ending," Jazz said. "Now, I can go into this further and you can start feeling more and more awkward, or you can just tell me."

Ember sighed. She supposed she could indulge Jazz's therapist fantasy. "Alright, but we're going to be here a while."

Jazz pulled out the piece of guitar. "We both have some time to kill."

* * *

_It is a crisp September evening, and autumn has come rolling in early._

_Inside a small café, a voice sings while her hands strum a purple and blue guitar. The customers ignore her, occasionally dropping a coin or two in her guitar case._

_Ember McLain finishes her song, and announces to the café her appreciation for their time. "My name Ember!" she calls out, and bids the audience adieu._

_Nobody stops to applaud._

_Sighing, Ember packs up her guitar, and leaves the café. This isn't the first time no one cared for her music, but the experience doesn't dull the chilling pain. She sees her breath as she exhaled deeply into the night air and starts to walk home, streetlights guiding her way home._

_Careful as to not wake her parents, Ember walks into her house, climbs the stairs, and sinks down at her desk as she grabs a pencil and paper. She grabs her guitar, and starts to work on her new song with a fiery passion. This one's going to be a hit, she knows it._

_Ember walks through her school hallways alone, bored, coolly aloof. She doesn't care for the people talking behind her back, gossiping about her failing attempts to follow her dream. What do they have to look forward to? Jobs in cubicles and lives of mediocrity? This girl takes a pass on that._

_A boy walks up to Ember and introduces himself. His name? She couldn't recall. When she tried, she only saw his beautiful eyes, his perfect hair, his charming laugh and smile._

_Ember is in love at first sight._

_This boy sits with her, chats with her during lunch. Ember feels her cold cynicism melt away to the warm, fluffy feeling this boy gives her. He compliments her on her music. No one does that. Ember's cheeks turn into red hot coals._

_School ends. Ember is still volcanic with happiness, but hides it beneath a mask of glacial indifference. The mask fades away as the boy finds her by her locker and asks to meet her for a movie. Oh, and for a private concert. He wanted to hear her sing. Ember stammers out an acceptance._

_Ember waits outside the theater in her favorite outfit, meticulous makeup, and her guitar, alight with excitement. She made sure tonight was going to be perfect._

_It is 8:00 PM, and he hasn't shown. Surely he's just running late. Ember waits on ordering._

_It is 9:00 PM. Ember looks around. No sign of the boy. She looks at her breath, clouding in the chilly autumn air._

_It is 10:00 PM. A cold pit forms in Ember's stomach when she realizes what must have happened, but denies it. He would never. He's just running late._

_It is 12:00 AM. Ember is coming to terms with what has happened._

_It is 3:00 AM. Ember feels a frigid sadness. She consoles herself by singing her most recent song. "You will remember…"_

_It is 5:00 AM. Ember enters her house. She just didn't understand. She sneaks up to her room. Silent tears of ice run down her face_

_How dare this dipstick stand her up._

_Does he know who she is?_

_You should not doubt me._

_You will remember my name._

_Ember erupts in fury. The sun is coming up, but she tears her closet apart and dons an outfit fit for the rock star she is. She puts on the makeup to go with it. She ties her hair in a ferocious pony tail, like a volcano spewing lava high into the air. She holds her guitar and screams, paying no heed for who might hear or who she may wake,_

_"YOU WILL REMEMBER MY NAME."_

_Ember collapses in exhaustion._

_Ember's house catches fire._

_Nothing but ashes remain._

* * *

Ember laughed. "And when I went back to the human world for the first time, no one even cared.

"I was right about one thing, though. That song became a huge hit once I revised some of the lyrics. I almost took over the world with it, but you know all about that." Ember winked at Jazz.

Jazz wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, she had a touch of sadness. That irked Ember.

"Don't give me that," Ember sneered. "You're a smart girl, you knew all that anyways. All your psychoanalysis garbage probably broadcasted the story in bright lights, so there's no need for your acted-out sympathy."

"No, this definitely isn't acting," Jazz replied, "You talk about this so easily, like it was all a joke. What happened was tragic, and no one deserves that."

Ember calmly exhaled. "But it did, and there's no changing that."

An awkward silence stretched over what felt like hours, until Jazz finally spoke up again, ready to play the doctor once more. "So it's nice we have confirmation on that. Would you like to tell me now about what's going on? Why you're attacking so much? Giving my brother a hard time?"

Something about that last question made Ember uncomfortable. Wait. She... "You're… you're _that_ Jasmine Fenton? You're a part of that annoying family of ghost hunters?"

"You seem awfully surprised for something that seemed pretty obvious. There's aren't that many 'Fentons' around, we're bound to be related."

Ember's head looked up and down Jazz's face. Her eyes were a different shade of blue from her human brother, and her hair was fiery red while his was pitch black, but the resemblance didn't come from their appearances; it came from their shared willingness to meddle with things they shouldn't, usually ghost affairs. Of course these two would be the biggest dipsticks she met in her afterlife. The connection made her laugh.

Jazz cleared her throat and continued, "Anyways, Danny asked for me to talk with you. This frequency of attack is quite uncharacteristic. You usually take your time and cause a big, flashy revolution every month or so, but now you're popping up, playing your guitar like a busker begging for people to listen, and practically running into the Thermos. It's not hard to see why I think you're trying to redirect pent-up anger, and clearly whatever caused it has had some sort of lasting impact. I mean, it's been almost a month and you're still at it."

Ember looked away. This girl was a little too perceptive for her liking. She would have liked nothing more than to listen to the lights buzz, but Jazz continued, "A ghost's powers usually relate to something they desired in their lives. In your case, fan worship makes sense, given your ambition to be a rock star, but I think it goes deeper than that. You like it when people really care about you. Sure, you can get power with a crowd of mindless teens, but there's nothing quite like having a single person's entire attention, craving not what song you'll sing next, but just to get to know you."

Ember pursed her lips. This dipstick doctor was pretty good, but Ember couldn't possibly acknowledge that.

Jazz wasn't done. "Your attacks are your attempts at redirecting your anger, and the weakened strength of your attacks makes me think some love one isn't paying so much attention to you."

Ugh. It was annoying how this doctor kept leaking pieces to the whole picture she undoubtedly already knew. Ember shifted in her seat.

"I can keep probing," Jazz said, "And you can keep sinking lower and lower, but eventually you'll hit the floor and you'll have to tell me."

Tossing her head back, Ember conceded. "Fine." Ember closed her eyes as if she were plunging into a cold pool. "Skulker and I broke up."

Jazz narrowed her eyes, as if to prepare them for their shooting open when the realization came upon her, "You mean the hunter guy? The one always talking about getting something's pelt?"

"That's the one."

Jazz paused and asked carefully, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Ember sighed. She wouldn't be getting her guitar back, and she had to pass by Skulker's island to get to her place in the Ghost Zone. Why not humor the doc?

"He was always obsessive over getting the rarest ghosts for his collection. It felt nice that I was the rare one who he wanted alive. He's really romantic when he's not hunting, really. Always telling me 'you're my greatest prize' or 'I'm glad my hunt for the perfect girl is over'. He even made me my own bear trap. I mean, how can you not fall in love with that?

"It was nice… until Danny did something to set Skulker off. I don't know what it was, but now he's got a one-track mind to trying to take him down. He's even teaming up with Technus to work on his suit. That slimeball. Skulker hates his constant declarations of identity, but that doesn't matter as long as he's a step closer to getting the ghost boy.

"And of course, his 'greatest prize' gets ignored. I get it, you need space, but this was too much. I got tired of making songs for someone who didn't want to listen and told him it was over between us. You know the first thing he did when he heard that? He asked for his bear trap back! He said he needed the 'ecto-sensor' for his new rocket or something. Are you kidding me? What kind of guy does that?"

Ember huffed and realized she was standing up, arms waving and eyes glowing. She was even more impressed with Jazz's reaction: eyes open in pure attention. No fear, no judgment, just her listening to every word she said.

Ember sat back into her seat, her outburst over. "Sorry about that," she murmured. Even if she was a rock star, she couldn't just loose her temper. It's bad for her image.

Jazz beamed. "No, no! That was great!" Her hand was a blur scribbling on her clipboard. Of course, how could Ember have forgotten why she was here?

Jazz finally put down her pencil and asked, "So what about your other ghost friends? Kitty? Spectra?"

Ember once again thought through her gestures of annoyance she'd already done, but couldn't keep track. She settled again for a good old eye roll. "You know Spectra. She's not going to care, she'll just try to point out what you're bad at and laugh. Plus her creepy butler won't leave us alone. And Kitty's so high maintenance. 'Johnny's the best' 'Johnny looked at another girl' 'Johnny put my name on his motorcycle' Johnny this, Johnny that, ugh! One of these days I'll just clock her in the jaw and she'll finally break up with him for good. Or she'll propose. Either wouldn't be a surprise."

"Sounds like you're pretty quick to distance yourself from your friends."

"Friends is a generous term to use. Trust me, with people like them, it's not hard to get as far away as you can."

Jazz decided to move on. "And you're not going to try to channel your anger into music? You seemed pretty bent on it before."

"And look how that turned out: I turned into a pile of ash. Besides, I'm washed up now. I was a one-hit wonder in the human world, and now people wouldn't bother if there tickets were handed to them."

"Oh come on," Jazz protested. "You're a musical idol! Don't give me that self-doubt garbage."

Jazz got up, walked over to her desk, threw the clipboard down, and reached behind the desk to pull out-

"Really," Ember said. "That has got to be the saddest looking guitar I've ever seen."

Jazz pouted. "This thing cost me a full two-hundred dollars!"

"Aren't you a doctor? Shouldn't you just be rolling in cash?"

Jazz looked sheepish. "Okay, you caught me. I'm just interning here, so I'm still rolling in debt. But hey, at least North Mercy is offering me a residency!"

Ember decided to try congratulating her. "Just give me the guitar. I guess I owe you a song for your time." A solid try.

Jazz caught the praise anyway and grinned. "It's not a performance with Ember McLain, Amity Park legend, I'm looking for."

Ember watched Jazz take off her white coat, revealing her trademark black V-neck top. Jazz sat down at the piano and started playing a progression. What a shocker, it was jazz, but at least it was a song she recognized.

"It's a jam session with Ember McLain and Jazz Fenton I want."

Ember smiled. She played along, putting her riff on top of the piano with the ease of an expert.

"Hey girls," Ember sang. "We're a lot of fun…"

Ember didn't notice her ponytail getting longer.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_I hope you enjoy my first fic! You'll have to forgive the level of writing competency, I'm quite new to this, but there are some specific things I'd like to apologize foremost for._

_Hopefully you can find it in yourself to forgive the title; I've never been good at those things._

_Though I blame my inexperience with the site, sorry for any formatting errors or other blatant violations of the rules and guidelines. _

_The section about Ember playing her guitar, realizing it's not there, and Jazz revealing it's broken was my attempt at homage to the visual humor of the original series, but it's easy for visual humor to fall flat when there aren't... you know... visuals. It was a cringy part to reread, even for me. However, it was just so clear in my head I would never forgive myself if I didn't at least try to put it in._

_Please, review and critique! I'm here to learn to write better._

_A huge thanks to Guntherson962 for setting out the challenge of an Ember X Jazz fic, and for beta-ing. Sure, it wasn't a blatant romantic story, but hopefully I satisfied at least *some* of the criteria and do you proud._

_A quick thanks to the site for giving someone like me a safe place to try something new like this. Cheers, hopefully this isn't the last time._


End file.
